The Competition
by Hattie J Huper
Summary: The Monkees decide to enter an elite singing competition. The only trouble is their rivals are prepared to do just about anything in order to win.
1. Chapter 1

Yes this is a repost. I hope that doesn't bother anyone too much. I am posting this all in one go. I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 1.

Micky was excited, the RCA new bands competition was in two weeks and the Monkees had a reasonable chance of winning this year.

"I'm telling ye guys after this competition I'm gonna sleep for a month." He told the others as they ate their cereal and Peter burnt waffles.

~o~

"Pete I think those waffles are done man" Mike told him, coughing slightly at the smoke wafting from the kitchen.

"But they didn't pop" Peter told him. "Aren't they supposed to pop up".

"No, it's not a toaster, it's a waffle iron" Mike told him.

"Probably still should pop" Peter frowned surveying the black smoking lump that used to be a waffle.

"Next time do your waffles in the toaster" Davy said.

"Ok guys knock it off, the new bands competition is in two weeks and if we don't win, we will be washing dishes at Cassoni's pizza restaurant for the rest of our days. Mr Babbitt ain't goin to wait forever for his rent money." Mike told them pointedly.

"I hate to interject here Mike, but aren't we putting a little too much emphasis on winning this competition?, a plan B might be good here" Davy asked.

Mickey shot up his hand.

"Davy volunteers to come up with a plan B" he grinned.

"Yeah, you all starve and I move back to England." Davy said, draining the last of his tea.

"Well now that Peter has finished eating...whatever the hell Peter was eating, I vote we get to our instruments and put in some practice time". Mike told them, heading to his much loved acoustic guitar.

"I don't have a plan B Dave, I don't even have a plan A, but if we win this competition it will go a long way towards paying our debts." Mike told him as he began to tune up.

~o~

Across town, Eddie and the Bad Lads were having a much needed pep talk with their manager.

"You get breakfast when you put in a descent tune" Max Highland told them.

"That practice session yesterday was abysmal. I don't know how you expect to win this competition."

"We ain't going to win anyway boss, the Monkees have it all sewn up" Eddie, the lead singer frowned.

"All the girls love the little guy and Tork plays a mean piano. He's the best in the business."

"I'm not hearing this defeatist attitude." Max pounded the desk with his hand.

"You've just got to try harder, your rifts have to punch, you harmonies need to be spot on, it needs to swing."

~o~

Just then the door to his office swung wide and all fell silent as Laurence Nash entered. He was a self assured imposing character with tons of money and questionable friends.

He had agreed to sponsor the boys, buying instruments and studio time but Max had since felt it might have been unwise to take him as a sponsor.

Judging by the thugs he kept with him on every occasion and the constant stream of phone calls at odd hours it was becoming clear he wasn't someone they should be dealing with. But how to tell him that?.

"Who are the Monkees?" he asked, lighting up a thick expensive cigar.

"They're a rock band, they rent out the beach house across from Larry's Diner" Eddie told him.

"I see; and you're worried they will win?" He asked evenly.

"Well, yeah" Eddie shuffled nervously.

"Well why didn't you scare them off" Laurence said, blowing smoke in Eddies face.

"Scare...?" Eddie didn't know what to say. He didn't hate the Monkees. He played tennis with Mickey when they were young. He just hated that they were better musicians.

"Yes scare them off, must I do everything?. Ok, continue practicing and don't worry about the Monkees. I'll take care of it."

Laurence Nash exited the room then with supreme confidence.

Max was ruffled "ok fellas, you heard the man, get some breakfast then get to work." He told them before heading out of his office to catch Laurence at the elevator.

"Eh sorry Larry," he began awkwardly.

"Laurence" he told him coldly.

"Yeah Laurence, what do you mean exactly when you say you'll take care of it?"

Laurence walked slowly to where the other man stood and then without warning he threw him up against the wall.

"Don't ever question me, do you understand."

Max nodded his head in a jerky motion, his limbs shaking.

"Just have them ready to win" Laurence patted the side of the mans face before releasing him.

"You'll be hearing from me".

Laurence's henchmen joined him in the lift along with a scantily dressed woman with long legs and too much makeup. The lift door closed on them and Max finally let out his breath and pulled his shirt colour back into place. What had he gotten himself into.

~o~

"Ok someone is going to have to go for pizza, I can't concentrate" Mickey told them, putting down his drumsticks in protest.

"Mickeys becoming a diva already" Davy smirked.

"Mickey will ya just do one more song and I'll go for pizza and garlic bread" Mike asked him.

"Ok what song?" Mickey picked up his drumsticks with renewed energy at the prospect of food.

"Goin Down" Mike told him.

"Goin Down?, we'll be here all night" Mickey protested anew.

Mike laughed at Mickeys affronted face.

"Ok fellas, I presume we're having the usual, ham and pineapple" Mike told them as he grabbed his jacket.

"Can I have cheese bites as well?" Peter asked.

"Cheese bites as well" Mike repeated as he headed out.

~o~

Mike picked up the pizza and cheese bites at Larry's and headed back across the road towards the beach house. Just on the corner a man was standing looking lost and forlorn. He beckoned to Mike as he held his map up.

Mike sauntered over.

"Can I help?" Mike asked amicably.

"Yeah I'm looking for a particular street but I'm not so sure of the name".

Mike bent to look at the map not noticing the four guys exiting the alley behind him. The man suddenly dropped the map and pushed Mike into the grip of the other four men. Quicker than anything they dragged him into the alley and got to work.

"What's taking Mike, he's been gone a while" Mickey wondered.

"You know Mike, he probably got talking to some friend or other" Davy shrugged.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Mike was thrown up against a brick wall.

"Come on guys, give me a break, I've literally only got two dollars on me." He smiled nervously.

The larger of the thugs stepped forward. He had foul breath and an angry scar jutting down the side of his cheek. He clamped the front of Mikes shirt in his grimy fist.

"We don't want your money kid, we want your pledge."

"Pledge?" Mike asked wincing slightly.

"Your pledge that you won't be doing the RCA bands competition" he growled.

"This is about the competition, are you crazy?" Mike asked.

Mike wasn't prepared for the smack. The blow to his face sent him into the path of another thug who righted him and threw him up against the wall again.

Mike stood silent then putting a hand to the trickle of blood that ran from his lip.

"It's a simple thing, even for you. If we see you at the studio on the day of the competition, we'll hurt ye. Or maybe even one of your buddies."

"The little English kid" one of the others joked.

"You leave Davy alone". Mike said his face deadly serious.

"Well you know what to do then, and here's a little incentive".

The four started in on him then punching and kicking. Mike got a few good punches in but it was only going to go one way. He was horribly outnumbered. Eventually he crumpled to the ground his face a bruised mess.

The largest thug stood over him as he lay there.

"Be smart kid, stay away from the competition" he told him.

Mike felt a wave of relief as they headed off down the alley. He got unsteadily to his feet and stumbled along retrieving his boxed pizza as he went.

~o~

The boys had ceased practicing. Mike was gone an hour now.

"Damn, he's decided to go all healthy and buy the ingredients instead" Davy frowned rubbing a hand across his midriff to stem his growling tummy.

"He wouldn't do that to us would he?" Mickey frowned "threaten to cook a healthy meal".

"I'm allergic to healthy food" Peter told them. "It makes me loose weight and go regularly".

"Peter, they're good things, means you're healthier" Mickey told him.

"Ok maybe not then" Peter paused, thinking hard.

~o~

Mike stumbled in at that moment and deposited the pizza box on the table. He had planned to let them know what happened over dinner. In his dazed state he didn't realise how bruised he was. His left eye was swollen, his jaw was purple and he had a nasty gash at the side of his mouth. All three Monkees left their seats and went to help him to a chair in the kitchen.

"Sit down man" Mickey told him as he eased him into a chair.

"Jesus, what happened?" Davy asked.

"Four guys jumped me" he told them.

"You were robbed?" Mickey put a hand to his shoulder.

"Guys, believe it or not, this is about the competition. Somebody wants us to pull out" Mike told them, his voice shaky.

Mickey pulled a cloth from a drawer and began filling it with ice. He gathered the corners of the cloth together around the ice and tied a knot. Then he held the ice pack to Mikes eye.

Davy took a bottle of Antiseptic from the top cupboard and sprinkling a few drops on a tissue he dabbed at Mikes cut lip with it.

"Darn it Davy, that's hurts" Mike winced trying to pull back from Davy's ministrations.

"Hold still, that could get infected" Davy told him as he continued to work.

"Well they made their point loud and clear" Mickey said "Don't worry guys, there'll be other competitions".

"What, are you crazy Mick. We can't give in to that" Mike told him.

"Mike, they beat the crap out of you man, we have to pull out" Mickey told him.

"Mickey if we let them scare us off, we'll be the target for anyone with a grudge. We have to stand up to them. Bullying isn't going to be solved by just giving in and letting them have their way".

They were all silent for a moment, thinking on what Mike had just said.

"Don't cry Peter" David said as Peter sniffled.

~o~

The boys heated the pizza and then helped Mike up to bed. He slept as soon as his head hit the pillow, his bruised face looking pained even in sleep.

"What do you think Mickey?" Davy asked, his boyish face looking very troubled.

"I think we're in a lot of trouble. Mike is determined not to let them put us off the competition but is it worth getting beat up over. I don't know Dave".

"Mickey" Peter stood nervously on the landing "I'm scared".

Mickey went to him and put a hand to his shoulder but couldn't come up with anything comforting to say, such was his own worry.

~o~

The boys continued to practice over the next couple of days. Mikes bruises were beginning to fade but the whole affair had left a bad taste in their mouth and they took to going everywhere together. Despite their best efforts it was still widely known that their names were down for the competition so they had to keep vigilant.

"Hay Mike, what happened to your face?" Susie came over to their booth.

The boys were picking at chips and chicken wings while deciding the songs they were going to settle on for the competition.

"Wrong place, wrong time" Mike smiled while offering her a chip.

"Yeah well, you be careful, it's getting to be a rough neighbourhood. Lots of uncool cats hanging out."

"We will" Davy smiled charmingly.

"Heard you're going in for that competition next week. You guys will be a smash. Your sound is real now, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah thanks, will you come and see us?" Mickey asked.

"Try and stop me, a free concert. Groovy!"

Susie moved off then. She was sweet but always seemed in a world of her own, never quite with the people she was speaking to.

~o~

After lunch, there was loads to do. They had to collect the car and their costumes for the big day.

"I'll get the costumes" Peter volunteered. "I have to return my library book and it's on the same street."

"Ok Mickey, will you collect your Tom drum now?, I want everything done before we start rehearsing tonight, no distractions" Mike told him.

"You got it" Mickey crossed the street heading towards the large music shop.

A multi coloured van pulled up beside him. A side door slid open and several overly happy looking hippies stared out at him,

"Hay man, you want to go to Denver?"A bearded hippy in a straw hat smiled.

"No thanks" Mickey told him.

"It's gonna be a blast, we're gonna find the answer to life's questions through the medium of poetry and song".

"Another time" Mickey smiled.

The door slid shut and the van pulled back out into the traffic.

"Will they really find the answer?" Peter asked the others.

"No, I think just some really good weed Peter" Davy said as he watch the van veer into the wrong lane.

~o~

Peter shuffled off back to their apartment carrying the four costumes wrapped in brown paper. He was sorry he didn't wait and get the car with Mike and Davy as the costumes were heavy and the day was hot. He was sweating out through his floral shirt by the time he closed the door to their apartment. He dumped the costumes down on the couch and headed to the kitchen to get himself a drink. He froze, and backed up slowly as the four men took position to surround him.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Peter was surrounded. He watched as one of the goons unwrapped one of the costumes and held it up. It was one of the red shirts with buttons down the front.

"Hay this is nice" the man held it up.

He grinned as he got to work ripping the sleeves off of it.

"Have you anything to say to that?" one of the others leered at him from under his cigarette.

Peter just shook his head and watched as the costume was destroyed. He knew he was being bated and any answer would result in a smacked jaw.

"You play the piano in the group, don't you?" Another asked.

Peter didn't answer as one of their number was sauntering over to their instruments and picked up Mikes guitar.

He jumped slightly as his interrogator jabbed him in the ribs.

"I asked ye a question, ye play piano don't ye" he growled.

"Yeah, but mostly base guitar" Peter told him, his voice betraying his fear.

"You left handed or right handed?" He continued.

"Right handed" Peter told him, not sure why he was asking.

His tormentor grinned as he held up Peters left hand.

"That means you pick with this hand, don't it" he smiled.

Realisation dawned too late and Peter struggled as they dragged him to the kitchen.

"Please, it's how I earn my living" Peter protested as one of their number produced a hammer from Mikes tool box.

"You need to take up plumbing then" he laughed as the others held him secure.

Suddenly there was a sharp thump on the door followed by several more. Peter was thrown to the ground as they jumped over furniture in their hurry out the back way.

~o~

Mr Babbitt, infuriated with this band once again used his key to open the apartment. He stormed in, his face red with anger.

"I heard ye, you can't run forever. I'll change the locks, you see if I don't" he roared at the retreating figures.

Suddenly he caught sight of Peter huddled on the kitchen floor. Peter tried to get up and explain at the same time and managed neither very well.

"I'm sorry, Mr Babbitt. Mike has the rent. He went to the bank. Mike has the rent" Peter repeated, feeling his head spin.

He continued to explain as he found himself in Mr Babbitt's arms being led to sit on a chair in the kitchen.

"Yeah, never mind that son, who were those guys. Did they hurt you?".

~o~

When the others came back they immediately found the torn shirt and Mikes guitar with its strings clipped. But more worryingly, where was Peter. Mike went to the kitchen and he froze as he noted the hammer on the side board.

"I'm going down the hall to call the police" Mike crossed the room in two strides and threw the door open. Mr Babbitt signalled Mike from his room.

"Not now Mr Babbitt, I need to use the phone" Mike told him.

"He's in here" Babbitt gestured for Mike to come in and join them.

Peter was sitting on Mr Babbitt's couch with a glass of whiskey in his hands and a blanket thrown across his shoulders.

"He needs to be kept warm, he's in shock" Babbitt told him.

"They were in our apartment Mike, they ruined your guitar. I couldn't stop them."

"It's ok buddy" Mike put a hand to his shoulder. "We're going to pull out of the competition. It's gone too far."

Davy and Mickey stood at the doorway relieved that Peter had been found unhurt.

"Come on Pete," Mike helped him up.

"You boys should stay here tonight" Mr Babbitt said "If this is intimidation like Peter told me, they could come back."

"Thanks Mr Babbitt but we can't hide in fear. That's our apartment. We can't have them bully us out of it." Mike told him.

"I take your point. Though one thing you are going to do young man is use that phone and call the police" Mr Babbitt told him.

"Next time they may not stop at bruising up your face".

"Thanks Mr Babbitt" Mike said, a little choked up at Mr Babbitt's welcome help.

The police came and took fingerprints and statements. The boys cooked up soup and garlic bread for Peter and Mike gave him a generous glass of wine to help him sleep, even though Peter wasn't one to drink. The mood was sombre as they sat watching Bonanza. Nobody felt like picking up an instrument. Now there was no competition there seemed little incentive.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"It's done Highland, the Monkees are scared off" Laurence Nash sat back in his chair, smug satisfaction written all over his face. "There's no reason now why Eddie and The Bad Lads shouldn't win the Rock Cola Association competition. It's all sewn up".

Max Highland wasn't happy. Scaring off the competition was never part of the deal. He'd heard about the kid who was beaten up and wanted nothing to do with that but Laurence Nash was proving hard to shake off. He pulled at his tie as the heat in his office was becoming oppressive.

"I'd ask that you don't do that stuff again" he put in, rather nervously.

Nash leaned forward smiling with coldness in his eyes.

"What stuff, what stuff do you mean" he smiled looking agitated.

"You mean securing the bands future, putting all my resources at your disposal. Is that what you mean?"

"I mean sending your men to beat up that kid from Texas. I mean how many men does it take to beat on a scrawny kid like that".

Laurence Nash had a filthy temper and just about managed to reign himself in. Max knew this but he had to speak up.

"We just scared him a little that's all. He'd get more pain being kicked by a cow back home. No, if I'd wanted to hurt him he would have stayed hurt".

The last part was said in thinly disguised threat and Max decided to leave it for now.

They headed down the corridor to the sound stage to watch their band practice. The boys were a little sheepish when the two men arrived and got on with their rehearsal in near silence.

~o~

Meanwhile at Cassonie's Pizza restaurant it was all hands on deck as the lunchtime customers had arrived from nearby offices.

Mickey was making dough, Davy was piling on fillings and putting the finished pizza through the rotating oven and Mike was waiting tables. Max Highland paled slightly as he recognised the boy.

"Why did you bring me here?. That's him isn't it?".

Laurence nodded lighting up another cigar. He puffed smoke out before he began.

"I wanted you to see he was in one piece, no bones broke. So you can quit whining and get on with the business of managing our group" He told him.

Mike left a little basket of bread sticks down on their table. Laurence caught his arm and reaching up put five dollars in his top pocket.

"Thank you sir" Mike smiled at the generous tip.

Max noted his green and yellowed jaw line as he smiled, his bruises had faded somewhat.

"Now see, made amends" Laurence smiled with satisfaction as Mike went to serve another table.

Max had lost his appetite.

~o~

The day finally came to an end. The boys put in hard shifts these days at Cassonie's restaurant in order to pay rent. Peter was not the better of his adventure with thugs and stayed home. Nobody minded much as Peter was a whizz with pasta and always had something nice on the table when they came home. Things had changed with them since the competition fiasco though. The boys, tired out from working plonked in front of the TV every night hardly even making conversation. Mickey was serious and sullen, secretly blaming himself for not being able to protect his friends. Davy kept to himself and barely noticed the girls as he did his habitual walk on the beach and Mike was jumpy and even a little nervous, obsessively checking the locks every night and even walking the house at odd hours making sure the place was secure.

~o~

They were surprised to hear the knock at the door at this hour. It wasn't Mr Babbett, he had been paid earlier. Mickey hauled himself up and went to answer it. They were even more surprised to see the entire band, the Bad Lads shuffle into their front room looking sheepish and contrite.

"What are you doing here fellas, I thought you'd be hard at work getting ready for the competition tomorrow" Davy asked.

"We're suppose to be, but gosh darn Davy we had to come" Eddie began.

"We had to confess" Ronnie continued, looking troubled.

"You see we are the cause of your recent attacks. Our manager took on a sponsor, a man by the name of Laurence Nash."

Eddie continued the story, "we made the mistake of telling him that you guys were our biggest rivals in this competition. That's when he took it upon himself to mount a campaign against you. We're sorry fellas honest we are. We would never have taken him on if we had known what a thug he is".

The Monkees were speechless for a moment then Peter finally spoke up.

"But winning a competition by scaring off the opposition isn't very cool. I mean, you haven't really won anything " He said.

"Peter you have to believe us man, this isn't our doing. This guy has attached himself to us. Yeah he pays for studio time and instruments, but he scares us and we'd rather go on playing in Ronnie's garage than have him manage things" Eddie told him.

"We have to attend this competition tomorrow, we're in it up to our necks with this guy and his thugs but we wanted you to know who it was that messed up your chance and we wanted to say sorry."

They were obviously sorry, Eddie looked slightly emotional even. Mike went to him and shook his hand.

"Good luck tomorrow Eddie" he told him. "I hope you win, I hope even more that you can shake this guy off."

Eddie nodded, he couldn't trust his voice. This thing was bothering him a lot more than he had admitted to himself. The Monkees were annoying in that they were always coming up with new sounds and that little British guy drove the girls crazy but he would never wish harm on them. They were good guys. They were part of the scene.

~o~

The Bad Lads stayed for a while and had pizza. They played their songs for the Monkees and shared guitar tips and 'tough crowd' stories. It was actually a very cool evening. They headed off three hours later hugging and planning to meet up next week or the week after.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It sounded more like a racket, than actual music. They played to the audience looking down at their shoes, their harmony was off and their voices were thin and reedy.

The latest song ended to rather stilted applause.

The overly groomed presenter of the show came, hurrying back on stage and ushered the band off to the sounds of grumbles and falling drumsticks.

"And that was Jerry and the Hare Baiters and their song 'Poor sad chick wrote a story that no one will review' And now we have the next band up and I believe that band is..."

The presenter looked down his list.

"The Monkees."

~o~

Laurence Nash shifted in his seat and scowled as the lads took position beside their instruments. Eddie and the Bad Lads smiled in relief. They didn't want to win this way. It wouldn't be a victory for the best group it would be a money making scheme for one evil man.

The Monkees played their best songs, their harmonies were spot on and the judges were impressed. Just after their second song the presenter gathered the group together. He took the microphone and, clearing his throat addressed the audience.

"I feel you should know a little of what has gone on in the last three weeks," he began, putting a hand to Mike's shoulder.

"These boys weren't going to come today, someone in this very room tried to scare them off. I don't mean to shock you ladies and gentlemen but they actually used this young man as a punch bag and scared young Peter there up pretty bad."

There were a few gasps and looks of great concern from the audience.

Laurence Nash shifted uncomfortably.

"I have been given this information by the lead singer from band number 3, Eddie and the Bad Lads. He has informed me that the culprit of these misdeeds is non other than the sponser of their group Laurence Nash. Eddie and the Bad Lads have decided to pull out of the competition due to this controversy. And by the way Mr Nash, the police are on their way.

Laurence Nash got up and made quick his exit.

~o~

Mike and Eddie left the competition together looking rather flummoxed.

"I've never heard of them," Mike said shaking his head.

"What were they called again?"

"The Partridges or something like that" Eddie told him.

"The little guy with the red hair plays a mean guitar" Mike frowned.

"It was way past their bed time, what were they even doing there?"

"Well" Mike shrugged "there'll be other competitions."

~o~

The party went on half the night. Mr Babbitt turned a blind eye as they didn't party often these days and as much as he grilled them for rent he knew things had been tough lately. And so he donned his sleep mask and ear plugs and tried to think happy thoughts.

Mike got loads of female attention for a change, being the wounded soldier. Davy had to content himself with very potent punch and Vernon Peters from the 'happy flowers' boring him on tambourine rhythms and the importance of wrist action. Micky was telling huge lies to a girl from a new band, but Peter kept innocently correcting him not realising he was actually trying to impress her.

"But Micky you never flew a by plane picking up fairs around the Congo, I'm sure you're mistaken."

"Peter why don't you just, go over there, over there" Micky pointed to a random spot and Peter went and stood there waiting further instruction.

"Hay, we need to get another keg of beer up here" a tall guy in a striped tee shirt told Peter, "will you help me?"

Peter nodded with a dimpled grin and followed the man out the back way and down the steps to the beach.

"Hay where's the keg?" Peter asked as the guy began to walk off.

"There is no keg."

Peter was grabbed from behind and pulled into the shadows. He was dragged under the beams of the beach house and thrown up against the rocks.

In the darkness he could just make out the face of Laurence Nash as he stood with his henchmen.

"You caused me a lot of trouble. I had to pay out bail money,"

Nash said through gritted teeth.

"Now I'm going to have to hurt you."

Nash turned to allow his henchmen room to work. But he was suddenly knocked to the ground by a blinding punch to his left eye. He looked up incredulous as Mike stood over him.

"Get up" Mike ordered flexing his hands to hit again.

The other thugs moved forward to attack but they were forced back by the wave of long haired hippies winning out through sheer numbers. They were pinned to the rocks as Mike made short work of smacking around their boss.

Eventually Nash put up a hand to signal he'd had enough. Mike pulled him to his feet.

"You get the hell out of here" Mike told him.

As Nash stumbled off up the beach Davy skipped over to Mike.

"Hay that was very brave man" Davy told him.

"Was it?" Mike asked doubtfully. "I think I bout peed my pants."

Micky shook his head, "Too much information".

~o~

"Well we won't be seeing him again" Mike said as they returned to the house.

"That's makes me happy" Davy nodded.

"Me too" Peter said. "What about you Micky?"

Micky scowled "I'd be happier if that kid from the Partridge group hadn't just moved in on my girl."

THE END.


End file.
